


Invité d'honneur

by awayfromsight



Series: Baltimore Affairs [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Dinner Party, F/M, Fluff, Slightly Jealous Alana, because they deserve it, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 07:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14232162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awayfromsight/pseuds/awayfromsight
Summary: “I wouldn’t want to disappoint my guest of honor.“





	Invité d'honneur

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caissa/gifts).



> A prompt for kmo <3 
> 
> Based on an idea from my previous fic "La Mia Cosa Preferita".

Walking up to the large front door, the smells of various different dishes reached her nose before she could even ring the doorbell. She straightened her back, smoothing out nonexistent creases in her dress to appear relaxed and put together but before she could raise her hand, the door swung open. 

“Bedelia. I’m glad you came.“ 

Hannibal smiled at her, stepping aside to let her in. Briefly playing with the idea of kissing him hello, Bedelia quickly dismissed the thought with a slight shake of her head. They were nothing more than colleagues tonight, a condition she had imposed on him before accepting the invitation to his dinner party. The boundaries and conditions of their relationship were beyond blurred but she had remained insistent that tonight was strictly platonic, a chance for other people to “experience her excellence“ as he had described it. 

“It would have been rude to flake,“ The glint in her eyes was teasing as she stood in front of him, looking up,“ and I know how much effort you undoubtedly put into this evening.“ 

“I wouldn’t want to disappoint my guest of honor.“ His hand were itching to wrap around her waist and pull her closer but he knew she wouldn’t approve.

“Hannibal, I’m nothing more than another guest tonight. Please remember that.“ 

“Of course. Seeing as you’re the first _ordinary_ guest to arrive, why don’t you join me in the kitchen?“ He settled a hand on the small of her back, guiding her towards the heart of his home. The kitchen was filled with various pans and platters, artfully decorated to impress his peers.

“Could I interest you in a glass of wine while I finish up the Entrée?“ 

Hannibal went in search of a glass and the best red he could find in his collection, appearing beside her as she was walking around the island, peering over the dishes he had prepared.  
“Thank you,“ she accepted the glass with a smile, feeling more comfortable immediately. The wine felt like a lifeline to their usual setting, standing in her home after therapy shifting from Doctor and Patient to _Something else_. 

“I remembered you talking about this Merlot a few weeks ago, so I did a bit of research to try it for myself. Your taste was, as always, impeccable.“ 

Bedelia inclined her head, feeling the tension between them build. The wine would undoubtedly be a necessity if he was insistent to keep flirting with her.  
She could feel his gaze burning into the side of her face, tracing every line and mapping every contour, as he did every time he looked at her. They slowly moved toward each other, like a magnetic force drawing them closer together until there was barely any space left between them. Bedelia didn’t dare look into his eyes and had to suppress an audible sigh of relief when the oven disrupted the moment with loud beeping, announcing that the main course was ready to be presented. 

They stepped apart, Hannibal dashed toward the source of the noise, leaving Bedelia to empty her wine in one gulp, quickly reaching to refill her glass.  
The following minutes were spent in silence as she watched him plate and decorate the Crown Roast he had so artfully prepared, steaming away with the rest of the meal. His desire for perfection in the kitchen was almost a painful reminder of his perfectionist nature concerning every other aspect of his life, especially, or so it seemed, when it came to her. 

As the finishing touches were put on the lamb, the doorbell alerted them to the arrival of the other guests, the starting gunshot for the rest of the night.

Bedelia was formally introduced to every person entering the house, receiving high praise from Hannibal, raising more than one eyebrow along the way. The pretence of their platonic relationship was threatening to slip before the first course had even been served. 

“Alana, I don’t think you’ve met Dr. Du Maurier? Without discrediting both our work, she is the best Baltimore has to offer. And I’m finally fortunate enough to have her attend one of my gatherings. Bedelia, Dr. Bloom was one of my brightest students.“ 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Dr. Du Maurier. I loved your article on Post Trauma Treatment, your insight was incredible.“ 

“Thank you.“ The smile Bedelia gave her in return did not reach her eyes, never having been fond of superficial flattery. 

Dr. Bloom looked a little taken aback by the dismissive tone in her voice and did not reply, glancing between the two people in front of her. She seemed tremendously relieved when someone else approached her. 

Momentarily left alone, Hannibal turned to Bedelia, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.  
“You were not impressed with Alana, I gather?“

“I didn’t know I was supposed to be.“ They exchanged a look laden with challenge and electricity before Hannibal addressed the other attendants to move into the dining room.

Before he left, Bedelia felt his hand on the small of her back and a low whisper in her ear. “First seat on the left, I would like to have you close to me.“ 

He disappeared into the kitchen again, leaving her to draw a deep breath and collect herself. As she made her way to the dining room, Bedelia found the chair he had mentioned conveniently empty. Taking a seat, the older woman opposite her, a surgeon Hannibal had worked under several years ago, whose name had escaped her almost immediately, turned to her.  
“So, you are the guest of honor tonight. Dr. Du Maurier, was it?“ 

“Pardon?“ She must have looked incredulous, making the woman laugh lightly.

“Hannibal always likes to keep the most important person of the evening by his side. That seat is rarely just for anyone.“

“While he certainly tends to be a creature of habit, I don’t think this holds any significance.“

As if he sensed her discomfort, Hannibal entered the room, pulling the focus. The first and second course were served without incidence, the general conversation was pleasant if a little too bland for Bedelia’s taste. None of the other guests, while distinguished, were of interest to her with the exception of Hannibal who, despite indulging everyone seemed unable to keep his eyes off her for too long. A blush crept further up her neck and face every time she caught him glancing over. The lamb became the centre of her attention, the other alternative being an argument between Dr. Bloom and a renowned lawyer over prison mentalities and treatment of inmates. Picking at the food on her plate, she didn’t notice that the woman from before had asked her a question. 

“…Dr. Du Maurier, wouldn’t you agree?“ 

She raised her head abruptly, feeling exposed. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid my mind was somewhere else.“ 

“I was just saying that Hannibal’s choice of attire tonight was impressive,“ she repeated, and then spoke to the man concerned,“You’re always impeccable, dear, don’t get me wrong. But today it seems…special. Don’t you agree?“ 

Bedelia didn’t need to look at him to know he was amused, anticipating her answer. She felt like standing on a wire, balancing high over the ground without a safety net and every step, no matter the direction could topple her over.

“I must admit I hadn’t noticed but I suppose you’re correct.“

The surgeon did not appear satisfied, a slight gleam in her eyes. “I find that hard to believe. You two seem so very close?“

Picking up her wine glass, suddenly needing to hold onto something, Bedelia’s expression turned colder. “We’re…“

“Colleagues,“ Hannibal interrupted, aware of how important their pretence was to her, “I very much admire Dr. Du Maurier’s work and intellect. And I appreciate the compliment, I’m happy to know that my efforts are appreciated.“  
The smile on his face was superficial and absolutely charming, undoubtedly the most polished layer of his veil. 

“I’d say it was more than appreciated, given that the young Dr. Bloom can’t seem to stop stealing glances over here.“ 

Both Bedelia and Hannibal turned at that, spotting Alana a little further down the table and did indeed find her observing him. When she saw the top of the table staring at her, the young woman quickly turned back to the man she was currently in conversation with. Reminding Bedelia a little of a mouse, worshipping the cat she should rather be afraid of, she didn’t pause to think where that left herself. 

Hannibal broke the silence first, rising from his chair next to her, “I think it’s about time for dessert. If you will excuse me.“ 

Before he left, he leant down to her. “Hadn’t noticed? I’m hurt, Bedelia.“ The smirk on his face was smug and entirely too much for her, especially given the situation. 

Emptying the latest of several wine glasses that night and reaching to refill it at once, she found that she could not wait for the party to end and hopefully leave with her reputation still intact. Whether or not Alana Bloom was making advances toward her patient should be of no interest to her, they were not in an exclusive relationship. Yet she couldn’t quite extinguish the burning feeling in her gut when she saw Alana’s gaze follow Hannibal out of the room as if glued to his back. 

When dessert was served, the conversation between him, Bedelia and the woman across the table turned towards University experiences, all of them having attended John Hopkins at one point. 

“I remember that you didn’t seem too fond of me at first, Dr. Du Maurier.“  
He was teasing her again, the mischievous smirk hidden behind his cake fork.

Emboldened by the rather impressive amount of wine she had consumed, she decided to take him down a peg, thinking that his natural desire to cross lines was out of place when it came to her. “I think we both know that that was largely due to your less than favorable image, Hannibal. There wasn’t much to be fond of as far as I knew.“

He didn’t seem taken aback in the slightest, rather the opposite. The challenging remark seemed to impress him further. 

“Well, I hope I have since convinced you otherwise.“ He regarded her with such a soft expression, the smile on his lips usually reserved for the quiet moments in her bed or at her front door, saying goodbye. Bedelia felt the burning sensation in the pit of her stomach slowly disappearing. 

The adoring look on his face changed to a neutral one when someone else tried to engage him in conversation and just as she began to plan an early exit, she felt him reach for her hand across the table. Holding onto her between glasses and the last of their desserts, his thumb began to gently stroke the back of hers, without so much as looking at her again. His nonchalance was unnerving to her but she found that she didn’t want to pull away. Maybe she could blame it on the wine tomorrow.

The woman to his right glanced between Bedelia and their linked hands but said nothing about it, instead choosing to ask about her favorite classes at University, a knowing smile on her face. 

Hannibal seemed just as reluctant to let go of her as she was, only separating their hands when guests began to leave. Alana Bloom was the first to make her departure evidently annoyed for reasons Bedelia did not care to contemplate.  
Seemingly oblivious to his actions or simply not feeling like keeping up appearances anymore, he kept linking their fingers time and time again whenever he returned to the table until no one but her was left, more than slightly inebriated 

“I hope you enjoyed at least some part of the evening?“ He fully turned towards her after sitting down, holding her hand once more. 

“It was certainly… interesting. I don’t think I should drive anymore, I’m going to call…“  
“There is no need, Bedelia, you can stay here if you like.“ The soft expression returned to his face, pleading her to finally disregard the crumbling act.

“I shouldn’t, you know that I shouldn’t.“ Shaking her head, ignoring the faint blurriness in her vision, she tried to stand up but immediately sat back down. Her head was swimming and Hannibal got out of his seat to kneel in front of her, looking worried. He brought a hand up to cradle her face, stroking her cheekbone. He touched her as if she was a priceless treasure, just about to break apart. Given her current state, she supposed she was. 

“I’m afraid you will have to. Why don’t you lie down and I’ll get you some water and something you can sleep in.“

He led her down the hallway and, she noticed while taking a deep breath, to his own bedroom. Bedelia had never been in there before since they always stayed at her house but she couldn’t help a surge of curiosity spreading through her, the same way the wine had earlier. 

The room was large, comfortably furnished and the bed took up most of the space on one side, covered in expensive looking sheets. The part of her dominated by alcohol could hardly wait to sleep but her rational side decided to explore. There were no clothes strewn around or pictures on the mantle of the fireplace, “Of course he has a fireplace in his bedroom“, Bedelia mumbled to herself, and she busied herself trying to look inconspicuous while he returned to her side with one of his button-down shirts and a glass of water.

“I hope this will suffice. I’m afraid I don’t have any of your usual nightwear in stock.“ 

Glinting at her playfully, he helped her step out of her shoes and made sure she emptied the glass completely.

“I’m not a child, Hannibal. I’ve been drunk before.“ 

“Never with me. I’m just making sure you’re okay. That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?“

“You’re not my boyfriend or my husband.“ She almost crossed her arms, like a petulant child who hadn’t yet learned the meaning of No. 

“Because you won’t let me be.“ He stood in front of her, an entirely serious expression on his face, waiting for her to argue with him. She didn’t. 

Bedelia simply shook her head, trying to walk away from him but forgot to take her situation into account. Swaying after the first few steps, she suddenly felt his arms go around her, holding her upright. 

“Morals and ethics won’t let you. I have very little to do with that.“ 

They were so very close like they had been in the kitchen earlier. Turning in his arms, she met his gaze intently.  
He inclined her head to her, brushing her nose with his before kissing her lips softly.

“Morals and ethics are irrelevant to me. You’re not.“ 

He guided her in front of the bed, sliding the zipper of her dress down before helping her into the shirt. 

“You should let me wear your shirts more often. It’s comfortable.“ She smiled faintly, her back pressed against his front and his arms encircling her waist.

“You can keep this one,“ he laughed against her neck, before letting go off her and pulling the covers back,“I’ll be with you in a second.“

As she let herself be enveloped by pillows and duvets, feeling like she was drifting off to sleep already, she watched him disappear behind another door. When he returned, the three-piece suit was gone, replaced by loose-fitting pyjama bottoms. 

As he got in next to her and reclined against the pillows, they shifted closer to each other at once. They finally felt familiar again, her head resting on his chest and her arms wrapped around him and falling asleep almost right away.

Hannibal kissed the top of her head, as he had done many times before and wondered if he had managed to crack her resolve a little more tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit of something that I sort of kind of would've liked to see on the show. 
> 
> The title means guest of honour in French because I am ~creative~ like that. 
> 
> This is set either before or early in Season 1, and the old woman has no name because I didn't feel like giving her one. Sue me.


End file.
